


Cold Cold Cold

by waterpillar



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Light Angst, Lio is very uncertain and blushy and cute, M/M, Post-Canon, Promare spoilers!, Winter, [gasps] and they share a bed, light mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterpillar/pseuds/waterpillar
Summary: It was after the fall of Kray Foresight, after Galo gave Lio a kiss that saved the world, when Lio Fotia began losing sleep.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 5
Kudos: 182





	Cold Cold Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Promare this week and I cannot stop thinking about it so it's only obvious for me to write about Post-Canon Lio adjusting to the new world without the Promare.
> 
> Title from Cold Cold Cold by Cage the Elephant

It was after the fall of Kray Foresight, after Galo gave Lio a kiss that saved the world, when Lio Fotia began losing sleep. He would snap awake in the silence of the early morning shivering, and in that split moment of naïve wakefulness, when the reality of who you are and the life you lead are but foggy and distant knowledge, Lio would reach and reach for the fire inside him, an instinct that developed over lonely nights spent sleeping light on stone cold floors, only to come up empty.

It was happening more and more frequently, and this night was no exception. Frantically, Lio ran his numbed hands across his sternum, searching for even a semblance of warmth, until he remembered and sighed at his panic.

His capture. The jailbreak. Governor Kray nearly ending humanity. Lio De Galon.

And the Promare. The Promare _leaving_.

Discovering the existence of inter-dimensional fire-beings was a lot easier for Lio to accept than one might think. He always thought the small voice in the corner of his mind saying _burn burn burn_ was all him and his freakish obsession with using his power, but he felt less insane when he learned a burning creature was using his body as a vessel. 

Lio stretched his legs over to the end of the bed and sat himself up, pulling back his short, tangled hair from his face. He looked over his shoulder into the dimness of the bedroom he shared, eyes adjusting to the tiniest fraction of light filtering in through the room’s bow window, signaling the beginning of dawn.

Lio’s eyes were drawn to the blue fluff of hair plastered to the pillow next to his own, a soft snore coming from the broad figure. Lio gave himself five seconds to stare before turning away.

Following the aftermath of Earth’s Almost-Doomsday, groups of city officials and civilians, women and men, Burnish and not, sought to restore Promepolis. Amidst the commotion, Lio had forgotten all about what this new world meant for him. He was Burnish-born, inheriting it from his mother, so his first life lesson was how to run. He never had a home. He never had to _think_ about a home.

_“Lio! You don’t have anywhere to crash for the night, right? You should stay at my place! At least until you get back on your feet,” announced Galo, gripping Lio’s shoulder._

_It was evening, and Galo and Lio were walking aimlessly on the quiet streets of Promepolis. Just a mere twenty-four hours ago, the survival of humanity had rested in the hands of them two. A larger than life firefighter with an unbelievable will to save, and the leader of the Burnish’s resistance movement. As opposite as opposite could get, they were destined to be on different sides of the fight. But now, they were fixing the world together._

_“You really think that’s best? In case you forgot, when we first met, we had weapons pointed at each other,” Lio replied._

_“Sure, sure, but that’s all in the past now! Besides, it’s my duty to do what’s best for others by protecting them. I can show you what it means to be a decent member of society now that you aren’t head of a terrorist group,” Galo said._

_“Are you really such a good example of “decent”? And I wasn’t raised by wolves,” snapped Lio, rustling at Galo’s overpowering (and disgustingly courageous) pronouncement that he needed to save others, like Lio was some lost puppy that needed direction and correction._

_As much as he hated to admit it, there was truth in Galo’s words._

_Lio’s closest confidants, Gueira and Meis, had homes waiting for them, and it would put unwanted stress on Lio to search for a place for himself while simultaneously trying to figure out his position in the new world._

_Lio was too exhausted from the battle and cleanup to argue, so he obliged and followed Galo to his apartment._

And so for two weeks, he’s found a temporary home between the walls belonging to Galo Thymos.

Lio rose from his side of the bed and made his way to the hall closet, ruffling through boxes of storage to find a blanket. The only one he found was blue, patterned with penguins in scarves. He learned very quickly to stop questioning Galo’s design choices when his living room consisted of four pieces of mismatched furniture. _They were all pawned!_

He wrapped the blanket around his slight shoulders and plopped himself down on a brown armchair that was a tad too stiff, but he didn’t mind. He peered out the window to his right that overlooked the main street and pondered.

Sure, him and Galo slept in the same bed. (Galo had insisted on this, saying his monstrous king-sized bed would provide more than enough room for the both of them. “The hell do you have this island of a bed all to yourself for?” “I’m a big man that sleeps big. A stick like you wouldn’t understand-”)

And yes, on more than one occasion, they would find their limbs tangled up in each other’s as the sun began to peak over the horizon, then slowly detach and act as if it had never even happened. It was as if their unconsciousness knew what they wanted, but consciously, neither of them chose to mention what had transpired between the two of them.

After their first encounter, Lio had seen enough of Galo’s arrogance and big talk to deduce what kind of a person he was. The easiest way to learn more about people is to live with them, and not only has Lio learned that he was both foolish and arrogant, but also friendly, caring, passionate, and so goddamn _flirty_. Lio had watched Galo treat everyone with that offhanded charm, and like everyone else, Lio was not immune to it. They had one kiss in the middle of _fighting for their lives_ and for some reason, Lio could not get it off his mind.

And no matter how hard he caved in on himself, his body would not goddamn _warm up_.

From the end of his nose to the tips of his toes, an otherworldly cold engulfed him.

His small stature and quick agility were helpful when on the run, but his lack of muscle provided less than substantial body heat and without the Promare to counteract it, he was feeling the effects through every cell in his body.

Lio lived in harmony with the Promare all his life. Though he never knew there was a sentient being behind it, the voice in his thoughts was there and constant. It became his normal. Suddenly, the real world had begun to seem all too confusing and harsh and cold and lonely.

Exhausted with his racing thoughts, Lio leaned his pounding head on the back of the chair and slipped into a broken sleep.

\---

Lio dreamed, not for the first time, of unrelenting hands marking bruises on his skin and forcing him in shackles. Of the terror and white-hot pain he felt when the warp drive flicked on, sucking the burn and all feeling from his every nerve.

When his vision began to blur, Lio spasmed awake, flailing his limbs every which way to break away from the imaginary bondage that held him down. He felt tears stain his cheeks. The silence echoing throughout the apartment confirmed that, thankfully, Lio hadn’t cried out. He breathed out through his nose in relief.

Lio turned his left palm facing up, the same hand that had seen to his Promare’s departure. He didn’t know what kind of twisted desire led him to continue torturing himself, he was fully aware of what he would find, but still, he mentally cried out for the Promare and its familiar warmth. He came up cold.

Lio arched his back and stretched his arm muscles, groaning a bit at the ache in his muscles and the crick in his neck. He mentally smacked himself for falling asleep in such a stiff position.

Lio’s gaze wandered through the living room, noticing a soft light falling in the space. He twisted his head to look out the window, surprised to see white tendrils of snow steadily drifting downward.

_That would explain the unforgiving cold_ , thought Lio, as he padded over to the bedroom. He found Galo sleeping as soundly as a baby, taking advantage of Lio’s absence and spreading his form diagonally across the mattress, limbs stretched out in all directions.

Lio gave himself five seconds to stare before nudging Galo awake and said, “It’s morning. It’s snowing.”

Contrastingly to Lio, Galo slept like a stone, so it took several shoves and face pats and hair pulls for Galo to drag his eyes open. When he did wake, he rubbed his eyes with his left palm and softly said, voice hoarse from sleep, “Hey there, Lio.”

Lio pursed his lips, blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and draping down his body. “I said it’s morning. And it’s snowing. Also, why is your house so fucking freezing?”

“Freezing? You’re always cold. What are you, a penguin?” said Galo, eyeing the blanket he found. Suddenly, he shot up from his sleeping position and said with a conspiratorial grin, “Wait. Is it snowing? Did you say it’s snowing? We should go outside! It’s our day off and I have the perfect spot to make a snowman-”

“I’m cold and I want to stay in. Can you just, stay in with me?” Lio blurted out, surprising himself at his sudden honesty. Galo seemed taken aback at first, too, eyebrows traveling up his forehead and mouth softly shutting. “And I might as well be a penguin because you keep your house at the same temperature as the goddamn Artic,” Lio trailed off, uncomfortable at the unfamiliar look Galo was giving him.

Galo continued to watch him without saying a word, sitting up on the bed with the covers draped over his legs. The quiet turned into ringing in Lio’s ears and he couldn’t take the uncertainty, so he said, “I don’t have any winter clothes.”

Galo let out a hearty laugh at that, easing the air between them. Lio bit his lip and turned his head away, slightly embarrassed.

Lio hadn’t found the time or the energy to venture out to a store and shop for his own clothes. Aina had given him a few of her old outfits to wear when upon settling down into Galo’s place, Lio came to the realization that he had no clothes. He used to steal some pieces whenever he could but being the leader of the Mad Burnish was a full-time job that forbad him from doing mundane tasks such as shopping. Aina was roughly the same stature as him (she a bit curvier) and her style was neutral enough for Lio to be content with.

“Alright, I hear ya. We’ll do something about that,” Galo said, settling back down on his side of the bed. He propped his head slightly upward with one brawny arm and used the other to pat the emptiness in the spot next to him, the side Lio had claimed. “Come back to bed. I’ll warm you up.”

Despite his chilliness, Lio felt the heat rise on his cheeks. He furrowed his nose and padded over to the bed, grabbing his pillow and chucking it across Galo’s face.

Galo let out a chuckle, shifting himself to accommodate for Lio. “I’m not sure if the Promare screwed up your body temperature somehow, but the heater has been on. I even got hot last night, that is, until you stuck the bottoms of your feet on my back. I nearly leapt out of bed.”

Lio huffed, blanket still wrapped tightly around him as he settled himself on his back and placed his head into the crook between Galo’s arm and shoulder. He must’ve been asleep, because he has no recollection of doing so.

Galo easily pulled Lio closer to him, instead positioning Lio’s back fully flushed upon Galo’s exposed upper body. Heat radiated from Galo’s bare skin upon his back and Galo’s gentle palm found its way to Lio’s narrow waist. Lio let out a careful breath, thankful for the sudden relief against the icy air. He clasped his hands together and held them against his chest.

Galo was shirtless, like he was the majority of the time, but had enough decency to wear gray sweatpants to bed now that he was not sleeping alone. Lio wore an old white tee of Galo’s to bed and yes, it swallowed him whole.

He rested his cheek against the cool pillow, somewhat glad he was facing away from Galo’s watchful gaze. Galo was a showoff, but when you had his attention, it was undivided. Lio couldn’t face the scrutiny head on, not with the doubt bouncing back and forth in his thoughts.

This morning’s whole ordeal was starting to feel oddly intimate, though they had kissed not too long ago. If it could even be counted as a kiss.

Lio, lying in the midst of Galo’s embraced, was struck with the clarity that he wanted to kiss Galo again. Properly.

That fateful day was a whirlwind. Lio’s body raced with adrenaline by just the thought of the day’s events. When he was blinded by sweet revenge and lost control. When him and Galo uncovered the truth about the Burnish people. When Lio met death. When Galo saved him. Several times.

They had not uttered a word about that moment since. The moment that when Lio had been restored and awoken, he pushed his own lips lightly against Galo’s, as if his next chance at life possessed new meaning since it was given to him by the firefighter.

_How ironic._

“I’ve lived with the Promare all my life. Their burning presence became my normal, and the urge to burn was natural and I learned to control it as best I was able. There’s an emptiness now that it’s gone… It’s frightening,” muttered Lio, unsure how he allowed himself to get in this vulnerable position with the man he lived with and had grown to care for.

A dry laugh escaped him. “I always had the burning to protect me. It healed me. Gave me power and a reason to fight. I never thought I would miss it’s heat.”

It was unlike Galo, who never failed to make his booming presence known, to be as silent as he was. However, he was still present. His fingertips traced the path of Lio’s bare arm, from the top of his shoulder down to his conjoined hands and stopped there. His single hand was large enough to rest over both of Lio’s.

“I can’t understand how you feel,” Galo spoke as he shifted behind Lio.

Curiosity pushed Lio to quickly peek behind him to see Galo place the side of his head against his hand, propped up by the elbow. Lio always felt small when it came to Galo, but Galo’s elevated position while they were in bed and very near to one another erupted a new feeling in him. Nice, but nervous.

Galo’s hair was ragged and formed a blue halo around his head. In another circumstance, the nest atop him would’ve been teasable to Lio, but Galo’s serious expression held him back.

Lio moved back to face away from him as Galo continued, “But you’re not alone. We all lost something that day, I think. The Burnish lost their destructive power. In the long run, people will adjust. The city lost a respectable leader. But someone new will rise to take his place. I lost a man that was like a father to me. But we’ll rebuild. We have no choice.”

Losing the Promare was like losing a limb, thought Lio. A vital part of him was whisked away. Galo was right, he could never understand.

“Fighting for survival isn’t easy, Lio. We know that firsthand,” said Galo, rubbing his thumb up and down Lio’s fingers. “In one way or another, we both dedicated ourselves to rescuing others that couldn’t protect themselves. All we’re doing now is shifting the way we accomplish that. You are still helping your fellow ex-Burnish, that has to be enough reason to push through.”

Lio was concerned about how easily he was adapting to this atmosphere. The quiet mornings, the exchange of soft whispers between the sheets.

When he was a wanted criminal, he never fantasized about being a normal man with a normal life. He was raised in a society where he was seen as an atrocity, a threat. At a very young age, he sculpted his mindset accordingly. He resolved to always be on high alert, always on the move.

Lio had grown into a bad habit of placing verbal and mental walls between him and others, because in his line of work as a so called ‘terrorist’, his colleagues almost always returned to ash.

But when it came Galo, with his beaming and contagious grin, all those seals of protection were reduced to naught.

It was easy to let his guard down in the solace of their shared apartment. In the arms of a firefighter, Lio Fotia felt safe for the first time.

“The first and last thing my mother taught me in this world was how to run. What way to place your feet on the ground to move about as silent as a mouse. How to build up my stamina, the way to breathe that carries sufficient oxygen throughout your bloodstream to keep your muscles at max proficiency. But she didn’t only show me how to run away, but how to run _towards_. That any belief that lights a fire inside you is worth fighting for, and how to pursue a dream that feels unattainable. She believed we humans had a wired instinct to run, but it was up to us to decide how. And which thing we run to or away from.”

_I’ve never spoken a word about my mother to another living soul,_ thought Lio. _The cold is surely making me delirious_.

During his spiel, Lio had unraveled his hands and began mindlessly tracing the lines on Galo’s palm as he recounted his thoughts.

Galo hummed in acknowledgement, his breath tickling the backside of Lio’s ear. Lio shivered.

“I’ve finally reached my finish line, the Burn- _ex-_ Burnish finally have a fair shot at life, though I’m sure true equality is still some time away, but we’ll get there.” Lio pondered, a confession finding its way to the back of his throat.

“On that day… you revived me. Literally brought me back to life. But you also woke me up. To a possibility that life could be more than just surviving. You, a firefighter, lit a fire for me, after all. That’s got to mean something.”

“Yeah,” breathed Galo. “It does.”

\---

They spent the rest of the snow day shitting around the house, tv on in the background as they slipped in and out of sleep, only getting up to piss or grab a snack from their fully stocked pantry (thanks to Galo’s preference for processed foods).

The past couple of weeks of rebuilding took a toll on not only them two, but the whole city. The snow day could provide vital time to recharge and reflect on the coming future.

Lio and Galo were more than happy to use their reflection time to sit on their ass.

Thankfully, this gave Lio the catch up on a bit of sleep the bitter cold stole from him. And in Galo’s firm arms, he found the warmth he needed to slip into slumber.

\---

The next day, Lio wakes up late to an empty bed.

This time, there were no nightmares, no futile attempts to reach for his lost power.

Lio figured his colleagues could manage without him today, he _was_ the unofficial head of the newly installed Institution for Care and Wellbeing of the Formerly Burnish after all, he got to call the shots.

Sending a quick text to his subordinates of his whereabouts, Lio rose from the comfortable bed to take a scalding shower.

The satisfying shower did wonders for Lio’s skin and mindset. He stepped out of the heated bathroom relaxed and revitalized.

On his way to the kitchen with his hair tied up in a towel, he was unable to miss the light snow that scattered across the view from his window, forming a thin white blanket across every storefront, every vehicle, and every inch of the ground. The scene before him seemed straight out of a painting, like if he were to enter it, the pristine view would be ruined.

Lio occupied himself with doing the chores Galo refused to do around the house (how this man-child survived this long on his own before Lio came into the picture was a mystery).

Once Lio did all the sweeping and laundry and reorganizing he could muster, he reached for the scarf-penguin blanket and bundled up in the living room, facing the TV. The cold had been a steady sensation throughout his limbs the whole day, but the cleaning had been a welcome distraction.

At four in the afternoon, Galo burst through the front door, arms lugged down with shopping bags in many sizes and colors. Pink hair peaked out from behind him.

“Oh Liooooooo,” sang Aina, her own hands full of bags. She came to a stop in the entrance of the living room. “Are those penguins?” she asked, pointing to what Lio wrapped himself in.

“With scarves,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly, shifting his balled-up form to face Galo’s friend, who also happened to be in his Burning Rescue squadron. “What’re you doing here? What’d you bring?”

“Well these,” said Aina, lifting her occupied hands slightly upward, “are for me. And those,” she continued, pointing to Galo, who was flaunting his heavy load with a smirk, “are for you.”

Lio cocked his head one way, squinting his eyes at Galo. “Well, what are _those?”_

Galo stomped his way through the space and placed his weight in shopping bags on the coffee table in front of Lio. Aina followed suit.

What Galo had brought in was more than double of Aina’s load. Lio eyed the contents before him warily. He hardly trusted Galo to buy proficient groceries, let alone buy out half a store for _Lio._

“Yesterday, you told me you didn’t have any winter clothes, and how rude of me to not realize! Social rebels don’t have the time to lug a closet around with them,” pronounced Galo as he shifted through the horde of bags, pondering which bag’s contents to reveal first.

Lio shot him a warning glare.

“Now, now, just let me speak,” said Galo, putting his arms up defensively. He reached into one bag and withdrew a knitted hat, light gray with a white pompom on top. “Our squadron’s preparations for the day finished early, and I was chatting with Aina about your predicament. At first, I asked her if she had anything she could lend you-”

“And I said, ‘why don’t we just go shopping?’” squealed Aina, interrupting Galo. He looked down on her like she just stepped on his foot with her mecha. “Galo could _not_ be trusted when it comes to clothes. Have you seen what he wears?”

The three of them looked down at Galo’s outfit which consisted of no shirt (as per usual) and the same dirty, red cargo pants he wore every day. According to Aina, he received the pair after becoming a member of Burning Rescue and had the same filthy habits of wearing them constantly.

“It’s _practical,_ ” shot Galo, puffing up his chest. “Anyhow, you and Aina are about the same size, so we used her as a reference.”

Lio bristled at the remark. He knew full well he possessed the build of a dainty woman, he didn’t have to be reminded. “Why do you continue to wear those pants, anyway? There are no more fires to freeze out,” questioned Lio, easing the subject away from his lack of fashion and height. He stood up from his sitting position to curiously rummage through the multitude of bags.

“Old habits die hard,” Galo shrugged, still shifting through the bags, and his expression brightened at what he found and pulled it out. “Oooh, look at that! Black gloves just like your old ones. But woolier!” Lio gave the hand gloves an accepting look as Galo continued, “And fires still happen the old fashion way. Arson, stoves being left on for too long, things of the sort. The heroic aspect is just a bit watered down for my taste.”

Lio’s eyes rolled so far to the back of his head he started to see stars. “I have never met a more foolish, egotistical person in all my life.” He reached for the hand gloves.

“In your whole thirteen years of life?” snickered Galo, crossing his arms triumphantly at his wit.

“I’m twenty-two and you know that. Don’t be sick,” Lio said, ignoring his new wardrobe for a moment to give Galo a firm punch to the shoulder.

“Mmm. Let’s have you try something on,” suggested Galo. Without warning, the gray hat Galo displayed earlier was thrust onto Lio’s head.

Lio let out a noise that was a mix between a hiccup and a squeal. He thought he sounded like an injured feline.

Aina sighed like an irritated younger sister, taking her turn to cross her arms. “Galo insisted on the one with the ball on top.”

“The hell?” cried Lio, adjusting the hat and his hair. Lio could sense the hat was just a tad large for his head. He felt about an inch or so of his hair poking out from underneath.

“See? I told you he’d look _adorable,”_ cooed Galo, placing both his broad hands on the sides of Lio’s jaw.

Lio’s cheeks bloomed with warmth.

…

It took a shocking thirty minutes for the trio to throw together a somewhat acceptable outfit for an outing that was only going to be worn ten yards from the apartment’s entrance.

_We’re only staying in the front of my place, not attending some goddamn fashion show,_ whined Galo, when Aina vetoed his choice of coat for the fourth time.

_Yes, you big oaf, but that’s no excuse for pairing that pattern with this shade! You were the one that insisted on shoving him in this coat anyway._

Lio would’ve been more than happy being swathed in black, but Galo had an affinity for color, and that fact shined through the clothing choices he made for Lio.

_If you think this is bad,_ Aina said when she saw Lio's brow furrow at the sight of so many colors, patterns, and clothing items, _you should be glad I scrapped over half of what he wanted to get you. It took all my strength to convince him_ not _to purchase an ugly Christmas sweater with a cat riding a pizza unironically._

Lio was, in fact, thankful.

Galo had opted for the gray hat to stay on, so they adjusted it a bit to shape his head better. Every time Lio shook his head in disdain at Galo’s blatant idiocy, he could feel the pompom wiggle. He was also placed in warm, black pants with deep pockets to stuff his hands in. Aina had given him a baby blue, soft knit sweater Lio was embarrassed to admit he liked, but it was hardly visible under the layers and layers of coats that rested on his shoulders. He felt twenty pounds heavier. The black wool covering his hands was familiar and reassuring, though.

Looking upon at the piles of purchased clothes, Lio had felt taken aback by Galo’s generosity. He had not only lent Lio his home, but freely threw out his money for Lio like it was the easiest, most obvious thing for him to do in the world.

The notion that individuals had that kind of money at their disposal was staggering to Lio, and as he watched Galo run in the yard and flop on his stomach, making a snow angel on his belly, he wasn’t completely sold on Promepolis’s distribution of wealth.

They had finally made their way outside after a successful five minutes of convincing Galo to wear his own winter garb Aina had insisted on Galo purchasing.

Aina was meeting her sister for dinner, so the boys waved a goodbye as she sauntered down the sidewalk. The roads were still packed with snow, so it was safer to walk, no matter how cold.

Lio stood back from Galo's performance shaking, the bundles of clothes making little difference to the iciness that found its way deep into his bones.

Soaked down his front with snow, Galo raised himself up to his hands and knees and faced his head back towards Lio. He sat himself back on his ankles, tilting his head in slight concern.

“I-I’m still cold,” sighed Lio, trying his best to keep his teeth from clattering together so noisily.

“Me too, penguin, that’s why the weather is called _cold,”_ Galo said, “We all feel the cold, Lio. Some of us adapt easier to it, we grow to ignore it, or like me, you go out into the blistering weather despite the formidable freeze. You’re not alone.”

Lio nodded, noticing the double meaning in his words.

It was different, the prospect of a life not on the run. A life where the Promare were not on standby to protect him, but where he didn’t need that type of protection anymore.

And yet, this life had Galo in it.

Big, caring, and brainless Galo Thymos.

“The world may be colder without the Promare, but it’s still my destiny to protect. I can protect you,” Galo said, less gusto in his voice and more intimacy.

Lio slowly lowered himself to a squat, placing his face in his gloved hands.

This newborn world was unfamiliar to the both of them. It would take some getting used to, but perhaps they could face the cold together.

A rustling sound came from Galo’s position and the air shifted as Galo lowered himself to a similar squatting form. He placed a hesitant hand upon Lio’s shoulder. “Come on man, wha-”

And without warning, Lio scooped a pile of snow into his hands and plummeted a snowball into an unsuspecting Galo. Galo fell backwards in alarm, hand rising to his face in total shock of what transpired.

Lio let out an unadulterated cheer as he stood up, pumping his fist in the air. “Oh man, you should’ve seen the look on your face! Priceless, I say-” He broke into a cackle, gripping his sides as he could no longer contain himself.

“You bastard, you are _asking_ for war,” said Galo, shaking his head as he rose himself up, knees bent and ready for action.

“Bring it on,” Lio taunted, placing one hand up in defense as he bent down to scoop another ball of snow with his other hand.

“Oh no you don’t!” belted Galo. He wasting no time making a refined snowball and instead lifted a handful of dirt-ridden snow straight off the ground and onto Lio’s outfit.

Lio struck back in horror. “There is somehow mud under this snow?! These are my brand new clothes!”

The sun began to make its appearance from behind the clouds as the two boys embraced their inner immaturity and relentlessly bombarded each other with snow.

At one point, Lio ended up on the hard ground and grabbed Galo’s ankle as he tried to make his way to shelter behind a bush. Try as he might to unlock himself from Lio’s grip, Galo instead dragged the nimble boy a couple feet across the lawn until he ended up on the ground himself, face first into the snow.

Galo flipped onto his backside and lifted himself to a sitting position, coughing and choking on the filthy snow that made its way into his mouth.

Snickering, Lio scrambled to his hands and knees and shoved Galo backwards once again, using his vulnerable position to crawl his way on top of Galo.

Cackling in victory, Lio caked Galo’s tan face with snow he grabbed from either side of his head. Galo desperately tried to chase Lio’s hands away from his face, to no avail.

White flakes once began their careful decent from the ice filled clouds above. The two men relented, panting and observing the snowfall around them.

Lio, with his legs on either side of Galo’s waist, sat back on Galo’s lower belly and tilted his face up towards the sky, shutting his eyes as the snow kissed his exposed face. Galo’s hands found their home on both of Lio’s thighs, resting there.

“I’ve seen snow before, but I never had the chance to enjoy it. Not like this,” muttered Lio, as if recalling a dream.

Galo let out a gentle laugh, absentmindedly rubbing up and down Lio’s legs. “Yeah. It’s ‘cause I wasn’t there.”

Lio gave himself five seconds to stare at the man underneath him, his spiny hair poking up every which way, before reaching for Galo’s cheek and placing his own lips on top of Galo’s.

Soft and warm. The only way Lio thought to describe their kiss in the snow, so contrary to the harsh coldness of winter.

Their bodies and their lips moved in tandem with one another, where Lio went, Galo followed, and where Galo deepened the kiss, Lio obliged, parting his mouth.

The kiss was as careful as their first, but there was more meaning behind every movement, every gasp.

When they broke apart for breath, Lio collapsed atop Galo, nudging his face into the warm crook of Galo’s neck. Lio was lifted a small fraction with every rise of Galo’s chest as he breathed. He wrapped an arm across Galo’s form and his hand gripped on Galo’s side, keeping him in place. A solid hand was placed on Lio’s lower back, his thumb tracing circles.

The white cold falling upon Lio and the ever-present man underneath him were frigid reminders that the world was no longer the same, but maybe he would be okay.


End file.
